The Paradox Therom
by Brainbowcrazy
Summary: The Doctor was pulled into the Time Lock along with the rest of the Time Lords! It's up to Wilf, Jack, and surprise guests to set the Doctor free.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Woot! This is my first ever fanfic, EVER! Let's just hope this story goes to plan...**

**Disclaimer: Doctor Who doesn't belong to me. He belongs to whoever he belongs to. **

The Doctor winced as the shackles pinched his wrists. The new wound would join the many others scattered across his body. Nobody would care, not even his current 'caretakers'. They were wearing very discreet, black Gallifreyian robes. They never bat an eye towards their prisoner, or at least the Doctor thought they did, (the veils they were wearing were not helping).They kept at a brisk pace; his trainers would once in a while drag on the ground, making an annoying squeaking sound. But they still kept going without any pause. This annoyed the Doctor.

'You know, walking slower won't harm anybody. The Council could really do with some time off, see? And the way you drag me around –'the Doctor's rant was cut off with a sharp pull on the shackles. Previous experiences told the Doctor to stay quiet. They still kept up the pace as they ascended the stairs. The silence his captors induced saturated the overwhelming vastness of the Temples halls. The Doctor remembered the first time he saw the ornate halls. But that was a long time ago, only when he was just 80 years old. By now, the shining glory they once had was slipping away to a deep, dull wash of dullness.

The Doctor sighed. It wasn't fair, really. Being forced into positions he didn't want to be part of. He would often joke how it was his curse, to be adventurous, not that there weren't any other adventurous Time Lord. Just him. The only one to actually have a curiosity big enough to get in trouble. But now, that joke was reality. Nothing to be joking about. Much like how you would joke how your mom would kill you if she caught you doing something you shouldn't. She won't kill per-say; you're too special to her. But in this situation, she will defiantly kill you, in a bloody, murderous kind of way.

The Doctor's thoughts came to a halt, just like his captors had, in front of a large door. This door, to some, was a door of great opportunity. Once you get inside, you are accepted amongst the greatest Time Lords to exist. But if you were a prisoner like the Doctor, then this door was a spell of doom. The Council sat behind those doors in their overly elaborate orange robes and golden headgear. And they were cold, cold people. Made so by the countless years sitting behind those doors, taking not a step outside, governing half the universe without a single drop of empathy to life outside the Gallifreyian Council Room. Just sitting there; to become the cold rulers of a warm universe, through time and space.

The doors creaked open; none have gone inside in millennia… Or maybe five days? The Doctor lost all track of time, being shackled to a time diverter. It caused his time sense to be psychically stripped away, causing a burning sensation to form in his body, becoming less than what at Time Lord should be. He had almost literally become a human, only, with two hearts. It hurt, really. Not just psychically, but mentally as well. To be technically made human with a slap of cold metal on the wrists. It was humiliating to be made a lesser being, and the Council knew that.

The Council Room was not of the warm colors the rest of Gallifrey was made of. No oranges, reds, or silvers. Just those cold colors you associate with ice, or depression, or old men who have nothing better to do so they paint their whole house a depressing color. And speaking of old men, these weren't the kind to sit on their front porch and feed the pigeons. These were the sort of men who were completely and utterly detached from the world. They, along with the rest of Gallifrey, hated the Doctor.

The Doctor stood in the center of the vast room. The Councilors looked down upon him with disgust, and rightly so. They held onto their seats in anticipation of what was to come. They murmured to each other, and pointed their bony fingers at the Doctor.

Their headpieces were the only things the Doctor could see of them from the distance he was forced to stand at. His hair stuck to his face whilst his eyes danced from one member to another. He purposefully avoided the spot in front of his eyes, knowing that if he looked there, this torture would commence earlier than he wanted. Not that he wanted it at all.

'Ah, the ever young Doctor. I see that you have recovered from your last visit. May I ask how it went?' A smooth, velvety voice snaked across the room, silencing the Councilors in their murmurs.

'Weeeel… You know, got a chance to get to know these two.' The Doctor gestured to his 'caretakers' at his sides. 'And I could do with a mattress or some cushions in the room. Sitting around on a cold hard floor does havoc to the body. Did you know that the people of Vashtainrona actually have an idol for the cold hard ground? They actually have and idol -!'

'Silence, you fool!' The smooth voice has suddenly gotten harsh, and demanded attention from all the persons in the room. The Doctor's eyes never looked on ahead. Instead, they kept to his side, even though his body tensed at the voice in front of him.

The voice continued, but with more coldness than ever before. 'I only allow you to stay there because you have important information for us! I could send you to the dungeons, and extract the information from you by means of mind probe! You are a child of Gallifrey, and it is your duty to ensure that your kind survives!'

The Doctor's eyes never looked forward. 'Don't be so daft! You keep me in that cold little cell, and you expect me to-'.

'I said silence!' That voice interrupted, again. 'You never set your eyes on me, Doctor. Why? Is it because you are ashamed of what you have done? Is it because you are now a lesser being?' The Doctor did not answer. He could almost hear the evil smile rake across his oppressor's face. 'We need that information, Doctor. And whatever it will take, we will get it!'

The Doctor was suddenly forced upon his knees. His eyes grew large and terrified, but they never looked forwards. He felt cold hands creep up his temples and he wanted to scream in defiance, but the other denied him of his right by force through their psychic link.

The Doctor could feel every single one of the Councilor's minds link up with his tormentor's, and barrage his brain with thoughts so terrifying and sick, no words could explain the nature of it. They plowed, excavated his mind until it burned in their wake, and left bare what they couldn't use. But he continued to resist them that single piece of information they needed. That single piece of memory he kept under the most powerful psychic lock he could muster against the whole Council. They clawed and scraped, but could do no more damage.

And they failed.

The Doctor was released from the cold hands and crumpled in a mass of pain. He could barely see the face he never wanted to see in front of his eyes. Thankfully they grew hazy, and darkness saved him from that look on that evil face.

And that face, was Rassilon.


	2. Of Loonies and Sacrifices

**A/N: There has been questions concerning the title of this story. That's supposed to be that way. I'll tell you what, but that's just an 'easter egg' for later on. (I was thinking the final chapter?). Anyway, I'm sorry that the chapters seem to be choppy, but bear with me. English is hard for me, (it's my second language), but I try to cope. This is just a chance to improve my penmanship. **

**Disclaimer: Doctor Who doesn't belong to me. I think it belongs to BBC... **

Wilf couldn't make heads or tails of the situation. At one moment, the Doctor had been standing right in front of him, then POOF! In a flash of bright light, he was gone, including the litter of strange people that filled the room.

He wasn't the cleverest of men, but his time in the army certainly made him brave. He felt tiny pricks behind his eyes, and knew they were tears. He didn't know whether to cry in joy or in sadness. His greatest friend has gone, but not without saving the world from the evil Master.

There was a shuffling of footsteps coming from the corridor just beyond the infernal mechanism, which was now, (thankfully), dead. The glass door opened so much without a sound, and came running in a rather handsome fellow with a bizarre device in hand. He dashed about fanning the device over odd objects in the room. He glanced at Wilf in his rather ridiculous glass prison, but turned his head and began to sway the device back and forth again.

_That's odd._ Wilf thought. The only person he knew would act like that was the Doctor, and he definitely saw him disappear in the bright light. Whoever this person was, he was acting like a loony. And although he did not want to get involved with a loony and his rather pointless chores, there wasn't anybody else to free him from his prison.

Four, evenly placed knocks brought the loony's attention, black jacket fluttering as he turned around. Now that Wilf got a good look at the stranger, wasn't just handsome, he seemed smart too. And with a wild gaze, the stranger stared into Wilf's slightly terrified eyes.

'Hey there, old man. How'd you get stuck in there?' The fluent American accent flowed from the perfectly sculpted mouth. Wilf decided to ignore the 'old man' comment.

'Well you see, there was this bloke stuck in this other glass cage.' Wilf pointed to the other cubicle. 'And to get him out, you need to push this button here.' Wilf pointed again, but this time to the large green button behind him. 'But when you push the button, you get stuck. And that's how I got here. Now could you please just get me out?'

The other man just looked at him with an incredulous look. But instead of running off to find help like Wilf thought he would, the other man just stepped forwards with his device thingy and swiped it across the cubicle Wilf was imprisoned in.

'There's a dangerous amount of radiation accumulating all around those cubicles. If I went and got help, who knows what will set it off. But if I went in this one and set you free,' the man gestured to the other cubicle. ' I would surely die.' The man smiled. 'I like those odds!'

Without warning, the strange man threw aside the device he was carrying, and in a flash opened the door next to Wilfs, and setting Wilf free with a push of a button.

'No! What are you doing?' Wilf could not stand the thought of another person risking their life to save an old man's.

'Oh, we haven't done interdictions.' The man's gaze filled with pain as he crumpled in on himself.

'I don't think that's the time-'

'Nonsense! I'm Jack by the way. ' The man, Jack, slid to the ground as another wave of pain overtook his body. With a last contortion of pain, he slid to the ground and fell unconscious.

** A/N: Why didn't the Doctor just call up Jack at the end? It makes so much more sense! Just sacrifice Jack, and everyone would've turned out fine! But that's just my point of view... :p.**

**Thanks for all the faves everyone! I didn't know it would be this popular this quickly. Frankly, I didn't expect people to fave it... Thanks again!**


	3. The Doctor's Time in the Cells

**A/N: Finals was this week, so my story is not at all exciting... Hope you guys enjoy!**

_On top the hill, so far away_

_Stood two men, no emotions betrayed_

_Stood one throne, sat one crown_

_Stood two men, red and brown_

_What good's a crown?_

_When crimson coins fall from brows_

_Precious cache splattered on the ground_

_The thing that once knew, and never now_

_When crimson coins fall from brows_

_On top the hill, so far away_

_Lay two men, dead fear betrayed_

_Stood one throne, sat no crown_

_Lay two men, red and brown_

_When crimson coins fall from brows_

The Doctor sighed as he closed his book. The people of Kalout had strange poems, and deciphering them was very hard. This obviously had some historic value to the Kalouts for them to write about it in their book. However, there seemed to be no specific historical feature mentioned within it's yellowing pages. But for now, the Doctor just threw the book of the Kalouts' poems in the growing pile of other recreational items, not bothering with the deciphering.

The Doctor looked at his assortment of papers of alien and future earth mathematical equations. Picking up his pen, he continued to scribble out his escape plan. Yeah, it contained an enormous amount of variables, and errors, and the chance of being recaptured along the way. But you can't blame a desperate man, could you?

His prison was not the best place to spend free time, the mold and stink could almost literally make your nose shrivel up and fall to the ground. There weren't any lights, so the Doctor had to make do with a compact camping lantern he stowed away in his jacket. This made it harder for the Doctor to concentrate on his plans, since there was a book of half-read ghost stories somewhere in the pile. The only article of the closest thing to furniture was the steel bunk at the far end of the cell. It was a good thing Time Lords barely slept because the bunk was emitting a foul odor, and was sporting rather gruesome stains. The bars were made of the strongest alloy, and zapped you when ever you come near it. The Doctor knows, he's tried.

You're probably wondering what happened to the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. Truth be told, he didn't know where it went. It was the only thing that was confiscated from his collection of stuff. By this time, it was probably melted down for spare parts. Sure, the Doctor could muster up some amazing thingy and hack the computer that releases him. But said computer was in the other room, across the hall, down three flights, and out of reach of any kind of device. And if the Doctor actually managed to get to the computer, the hacking would take a year and it wouldn't make a scratch. The Doctor's only chance of escape was to make a break for it when he was being herded by his captors.

There was a bang outside his cell, followed by a muffled shout. The walls were too thick, and the constant humming of the electric bars were of no help either. The Doctor dully noted it's existence. It was probably another prisoner being manhandled into another cell, the poor soul.

Another shout, this time a little clearer. It sounded like, 'Why did you follow me?'. Either that or 'What happened to celery?" For some strange reason, his body started to burn more than before. He hissed at the pain. Something was making his time sense react, and it made the time diverter react as well.

The pain eventually subsided, but that made the Doctor wonder what was really happening within the walls of the Temple.


	4. So, You Travel Here Often?

**A/N: 2 things I have to tell you guys. 1) For those who faved my story deserve a gold sticker. Seriously, you guys do. 2) I will keep the gold stickers from anyone who doesn't leave a review. I'm doing this story to improve my penmanship! How am I supposed to get better if there is no constructive criticism! aksdjfkjaesfksdvuij bkmlefinvjja rage, rage, rage...**

**P.S: Sorry for the late update... There are many excuses as to my lateness, but I won't say them.  
><strong>

**Doctor Who doesn't belong to me... (Sad face)**

Wilf didn't really know what was going on. The banging, screeching interior of the Doctor's blue box was disorienting at the least. It lurched from side to side, and made you feel quite queasy. The shrill sirens and a constant ringing did not make his new friend, Jack, slow down in any his loony shenanigans.

Wilf watched as Jack danced from one side of the center console from the other, flipping switches and pulling levers. Holding onto the side bars, Wilf tried to remember how he got into this impossible mess he shouldn't have gotten into in the first place.

***Flashback***

_The crumpled mass of the strange man laid still as the radiation ceased flowing into the tiny cubicle. _

_Wilf was used to dead bodies, and this one wasn't any different. Cautiously, he walked over to Jack. All signs of life were now extinguished. Whoever this guy was, he was either brave or stupid to save an old man's life over his young one.  
><em>

_Walking closer just confirmed his thoughts. Jack wasn't breathing._

_He assumed the radiation flow stopped, because the beeping and flashing light ceased. Wilf opened the glass cubicle and dragged the dead man as far away from the evil cage as , it wasn't far._

_Wiping his brow, Wilf stopped for a bit. This was a little too much for an old man, isn't it. He looked towards the dead body, and noticed the young man's eyes were open. _

_It wasn't proper to leave any dead man like that.  
><em>

_Just when Wilf was about to close them, and with a gasp, the body suddenly sat up. Wilf jumped back and staggered a bit. He groveled for a hand hold on the console, and grabbed a lose pipe off it. Without thinking, he brought his pipe down on the head of poor, unfortunate, Jack._

_Jack clutched his head in response, and groaned in pain. Wilf stood, wide eyed._

_"How did you do that?" Wilf could barely whisper his question through his initial shock. Jack just looked at Wilf, bewildered.  
><em>

_"I don't know. The Doctor said I was a fixed point in time-" Jack stopped when he saw the incredulous look on Wilf's face. "Just, never mind." and with that, he jumped up in the air, grabbed his long forgotten gizmo, and headed for the door. _

_"How did you survive the radiation? How?" Wilf followed Jack out the room, staggering because of Jack's unusual walking speed. But Jack made no response._

_As they got outside, Wilf was surprised to find a lack of pandemonium out side the building. But, when you find a large planet in the sky, (not the first time this has happened), you would pay less attention to anything else really. Jack didn't seem to mind though, and still went on his way with a rather quizzical Wilf in tow._

_"You know the Doctor? How?" Wilf wanted some sort of answer from his rescuer, and none was given to him. Slipping into a dark alleyway, Jack finally turned around towards Wilf._

_"Do you want to save the Doctor?" Wilf wondered for a bit. He had already seen cactus people, been to space, and he personally thought that seeing planets in the sky was a once in a lifetime chance, no less twice! Looking over Jack's shoulder at the strange box the Doctor always had, and thought of the times the Doctor has saved the world. The Doctor deserved to be saved too, right?  
><em>

_"Yes," was all the answer Jack needed.  
><em>

***End Flashback*  
><strong>

As you see, this was all very confusing for Wilf. The next thing he knew was that he was hanging on for dear life in the Doctor's blue box. He wondered if Jack knew of his current distress. But instead he continued to run around the mushroom console, flipping switches and pressing buttons. Wilf's stomach lurched as the ship flew upside down.

As quickly as all this happened, the shaking stopped. Picking himself off of the floor, Wilf wondered if he should've stayed at home. Thoughts of his wife, and dear Donna flooded his mind. Perhaps jumping into his situation was not such a good idea as he had hoped.

"Hey! Are you okay? You look a little green there. Do I need to get you a bucket? Mind you, I don't know where it is, so don't go yacking up on me now." Jack gave Wilf a charming smile.

"No. But I could do with a cuppa."

"Nope, don't know where the kitchen is. I doubt if the Doctor even ate in the TARDIS." Jack looked a little sheepish about his ignorance about the schematics of the TARDIS, despite his knowledge of flying it.

"Then I don't suppose you could tell me where the loo- "

"Sorry... I've only ever been in this one room, so I don't know where everything else is. Sorry again , old man..."

"Wilf."

"Sorry?"

"Wilf. My name's Wilf."

"Oh, okay then..."

...

...

...

...

...

They stared at each other for at least another minute, the air around them stiff with anticipation. Neither of them knew each other, but somehow managed to drag each other into this mess.

"So, we're in free float right now. We have to wait for the right moment before we actually get going. Have any questions?" Jack fiddled with the buttons on his jacket lapels.

"Who are you? How do you know the Doctor? How did you come back to life?" Wilf was relieved they had found an ice breaker, and even more when he could finally get his questions answered.

"My name is Captain Jack Harkness. The Doctor saved me from a bomb. And I came back to life because of these little nano-thingies in my bloodstream, constantly repairing any damage done to myself."

...

...

...

The air stagnated again, both of the men finding it hard to talk to the other, their ages years apart. Wilf mulled the answers in his head, not caring whether he understood them or not. He couldn't think of a reason _not_ to trust the younger man, but there was something shifty about him. He would just have to keep an eye on Jack.

"So, you travel here often?" Oh yes, Wilf would have to keep and eye on Jack.


End file.
